


The Killer Flame

by hazelhackley



Series: Killer Princesses [3]
Category: Cinderella (Fairy Tale), Disney - All Media Types, Disney Princesses
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, M/M, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-10
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelhackley/pseuds/hazelhackley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Druzilla marries Prince Henry. Henry and Cinderella strike up an unexpected friendship and the two discover a common interest. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Ella was the perfect daughter to her father, though her mother passed on early in her life. Young Ella was perfectly happy with living with only her single father for company - he also spoiled her quite a bit - but he wanted the best for the girl, wanting her to have a mother. He married Lady Tremaine, thinking her to be a suitable parent for the impressionable young girl, but before he could really see how their new family would work together, he tragically passed away. The moment he was put in the ground, Lady Tremaine’s young daughters, the same age as Ella, took all of her nicest dresses, leaving her with meager scraps, demanding her to do any and all chores, and essentially changing their step sister into their servant, nicknaming her Cinder-Ella from how often she was covered in soot and cinders from the fireplace.  

Years later, the kingdom’s prince had come of age and the king was concerned about future grandchildren from him. Every young maiden of the kingdom was invited to a ball. With some help from her friends, Cinderella made a beautiful gown, only to be destroyed by her step sister Anastasia. Crying in the garden, her fairy godmother came along, creating a gown, footmen, horses, a carriage, and matching glass slippers for her to go to the ball in. Her fairy godmother warned her, however, that at the strike of twelve, all the magic would be undone. At the ball, she carefully stayed at the edges of the room, away from Lady Tremaine and her daughters, who had no idea that she had snuck out, thinking she was at home due to the fact that she now had nothing to wear. Quite unexpectedly, however, she met the prince and barely left his arm the entire night. In a hurry, the clock struck twelve and the prince had not so much as acquired her name. In all the rush, however, a glass slipper was left behind.  


	2. Locked

“Letter for you, ma’am. It’s from the palace.”

“Thank you,” Lady Tremaine dismissed the servant away, carefully opening the letter, noting the palace’s seal. Scanning the penned paper, the inked letters neat and curly, despite the fact that a letter had been sent to every house in the kingdom, likely very stressful on the palace scribes. 

“Drizella! Anastasia!” their mother called through the halls of the country house, looking for her daughters. 

Eager to please their mother, the girls, who had been lounging out in the main room, quickly picked up their large hoop skirts and headed towards their mother. “Yes Mother, what is it?” they called in unison, finding her on the stairs. 

“It seems that the prince lost the young girl that he had been dancing with all evening, the pinhead. However, she left behind a single glass slipper. He will be surveying the kingdom tomorrow, seeing if anyone’s foot may fit the slipper so that he may marry them in accordance to his father’s wishes. I need you two dressed to the nines by tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Yes yes, mother, of course!” They chimed. Marrying into the crown had been the girls’ dream ever since they were little. Dashing up the stairs, they threw dress and gown after gown out of their closets on the floor, nothing seeming to quite work. The two finally settled on matching gowns in different colors - brown and green for Drizella, burgundy and a dark pink for Anastasia. 

“CINDERELLA!” Anastasia screamed from her room. Their step sister lurched from the chores she had been doing and ran up the stairs. 

“Coming!” Cinderella called out cheerfully. She set the basket of laundry down on the floor that she had been working on and delicately walked up the steps in the ancient black flat shoes. “What is it?” she asked politely, peeking into Anastasia’s room. 

“The prince is coming tomorrow to have every female of the kingdom try on his lost princess’ glass slipper! I need this gown pressed and ironed by tomorrow afternoon, and the house cleaned from chimney to basement!” Drizella threw the layers of browns and greens toward her sibling by marriage. 

“Of course. I’ll have this back to you as soon as I am able.” She smiled without so much as a complaint and left the room. 

“Mine too!” Anastasia hollered from down the hall. Cinderella passed by the room and got layers of pinks and purples thrown directly in her face. This was not uncommon for her. Cinderella stopped, removed the dress from her face and added it neatly to the layers in her arms. She headed to the back gardens, where an earlier bucket full of suds and water sat. She knew that her sisters would want their dresses done as quickly as possible, so she began scrubbing the satins down gently but briskly, getting all stains out and hanging them out to dry. Carefully pinning up the blonde locks out of her face, she ran indoors to scrub the house down for the next day. She had this down to an exact science. Twenty minutes per room, to be done within two to three hours if she was going at her top speed, which Cindy definitely was. 

Hours later, the dishes shone as bright as the glass slippers she had worn the previous evening and she could nearly see her own face in the oak floor boards. After finishing her evening chores after her siblings and step mother went to bed, she finally slipped out of the ashy flimsy shoes and into the plain nightgown.    

X

Three quick raps came at the door. “Shoo! Shoo!” Lady Tremaine jerked her hands towards the young step daughter that she treated as a servant, not wanting to jeopardize either of her daughters’ potential marriages to the young prince who seemed to want to remain a bachelor forever and never create an heir to his name. 

Lady Tremaine brushed down her dark ruby gown, straightening herself. “Good afternoon, Lady-“ the footsman unrolled the scroll of names to the very bottom, “Tremaine. Are Miss Drizella and Miss Anastasia at home?” 

“Yes, sir. Do come into the study, if you would.” 

Cinderella dashed out of sight from the doorway, seeing the young prince and his servant in view. “Cinderella, my dear, you aren’t to be seen!” Drizella roughly grabbed her arm. 

“Don’t you know servant girls aren’t to see the prince?” Anastasia added. 

“Although I don’t blame you, such a-“ Drizella shoved her along

“Dashing man.” Anastasia’s head seemed to be in the clouds. 

“And all mine, of course.” Anastasia kicked Drizella in the shin. 

Cinderella sighed. “What does this concern me at all?” 

“Oh it doesn’t.” Drizella said flatly. “But this broom closet says otherwise.” Drizella threw her in a nearby closet, closed the door, and Anastasia locked it, pocketing the key down the front of her gown, and shuffled up to make sure it wouldn’t fall out.

“Oh girls!” Lady Tremaine called in a singsong voice up the stairs.

“Coming Mother!” the girls chimed in and daintily stepped down the stairs. 

The prince sighed, clearly exhausted from a day of putting a shoe on every girl’s foot in the kingdom. “Let’s get this over with.” Drizella quickly ran to the large armchair, convinced her foot would fit the slipper. The prince knelt down and took the shoe from the footsman. He was clearly having difficulties, and fell back. “No good. I am to understand you have two daughters?” Anastasia seemed about to say something but quickly rushed off to the kitchen in a hurry. Being the younger of the two and having seen her sister go through many difficulties, she was able to avoid them. Finding the nearest knife in the kitchen, she cut off a toe, and wobbled back to the den, carefully switching out the shoe so the prince would not notice, the glass slipper now fitting. Drizella in the meanwhile, realized what her sibling had done, rushed off and cut off her heel, and insisted another try, the shoe just barely fitting her as well. “Well it seems I have a choice. You two are the only ones to fit the shoe. Since you fit the shoe on first try,” the prince nodded a head to Anastasia, “I think it only fair that it should go to you. The wedding is at the castle tomorrow morning at ten. Be there at eight thirty sharp for fittings.” Anastasia clapped her hands excitedly. 

A stout old woman came through the door, having just been informed of what had happened while Drizella had cut off her heel. “We’ll just need a few measurements to prepare your wedding dress and shoes for tomorrow.”

“You may use my bedroom for the measurements.” Lady Tremaine curled a lip, looking happy; something that rarely happened unless Cinderella was being harassed in some manner. Anastasia ran up the stairs in a flurry of satins, throwing off the over layers. Anastasia petticoats and undershirts, the old woman stood on a chair getting the proper measurements and getting the proper sizing of Anastasia’s non injured foot. 

“All done. We will get you fit first thing tomorrow. Goodbye.” Anastasia changed back into her gowns and flounced down the stairs to gloat. 

“Congratulations, my dear,” Lady Tremaine congratulated her younger daughter while her other stuck a tongue out. “‘Where is that dreadful step daughter of mine? I suspect one of both of your shoes needs a bit of cleaning.” The two girls looked shocked at the fact that their mother actually knew what they had done, obvious as it was. 

“Upstairs,” Anastasia stated. “Why don’t you go get her?” she asked her sister, handing her the key, already taking opportunity to take the upper hand.

X

The next day, the four of them were picked up bright and early by carriage, Cinderella had even been invited - albeit because they had forgotten to lock her in. After two hours of tightening of strings and stinging pins in her sides, she looked like the closest as an ideal bride could be. Drizella held up the long train behind her so she wouldn’t trip. Reaching the front, Lady Tremaine gave a simple nod in order to give her away. The entire kingdom had been invited on short notice. The ceremony was as large and long as an event as space had been able to contain. She took the proper vows to become queen and wife of Henry and the mismatched family moved into the castle that day. 


	3. Just Cindy, But Not To All

Lady Tremaine insisted that Cindy remain as their personal servants as they were so accustomed to ordering her around. She was given private quarters that were slightly improved upon the attic room of the old cottage. 

Not much changed about her life. Laundry became slightly easier, dishes were done by the kitchen servants, but she was still sent on personal errands and meant to clean the couple’s, Drizella’s, and Lady Tremaine’s rooms. She usually took care of the rooms while they dined in one of the large sweeping rooms with tables that seemed longer than their original house. Within a number of months, Anastasia was pregnant, though only God knows how, seeing how much Henry loathed the new queen. Cindy had not told anyone, but it was very clear that while they shared the same bed, that was it, nothing more. Only twice had there been evidence of any escapades from the night before, and both of them were exactly a month apart. It seemed that Henry had entered this marriage simply to make his father happy and create an heir but that was the limit. He seemed curiously quiet whenever Cinderella did walk in to find him in the room. Rarely were Anastasia and he in the same room during the day. He used it for desk work during the morning and she was free to it in the afternoon, when he would go about the castle. 

One day, CIndy walked in to find him wrenching his hair out, frustrated beyond all belief. “Sire?” He perked his head up. She stood at the doorway with a basket full of fresh sheets for the couple.   

“Oh. I am sorry.” 

“N-not at all. You’re permitted to not be all put together. I just wanted to know if there was anything that I could do for you, that’s all.” 

“Not unless you can make that kid jump out of my wife any sooner. I just want to know if it’s a boy or not.” 

“Understandably so, sire. I do hope it is. She seems to be more vocal and her requests are increasing, so hopefully soon.” Cindy had become an expert at very secretly insulting her family but not seeming too vulgar. 

The prince laughed. “You’re getting the hang of it around here, aren’t you? What’s your name again?” 

“My real name is Ella. My sisters call me Cinderella.” Henry cocked his head, confused. “I spent a lot of time by the fireplace when I was young.” She didn’t want to admit the fact that she had been the family servant since her father had passed away. 

“What do you want me to call you?” 

“Anything. You’re the king.” She stated, obviously. 

“Fair enough. Ella it is.” 

“Thank you, sire. Will that be all?” 

“Get me some bread and honey from the kitchens if you could. I can never have enough.” 

“Yes, sire.” She curtsied and turned around. 

“Ella?” She turned around. “You never changed the sheets.” He pointed out.

“Oh goodness.” She turned beet red and hurried over to the large bed, changing out the under cover sheets for fresh ones, tucking them carefully in, and hurried out the door with the dirty ones draping over the basket handles. 

“What a curious girl.” He noted and went back to his work, slightly less frustrated after Ella’s visit with him. She careened down the front interior steps and dumped the sheets in with the rest of the castle sheets in the room full of blankets, trousers, shirts, petticoats, and gowns. Still racing through the halls, she careened through the kitchens, grabbing a serving knife, tray, honey, and a fresh loaf of bread. 

“Ella!” the head of the kitchen lectured her. 

“For Prince Henry, sorry!” She apologized and walked back, trying not to seem out of breath. Reaching the royal couple’s room, she smoothed down the apron and knocked on the door. 

“Come in!” Cinderella hung her head low, not looking the prince in the eyes, still nervous, but dutifully placing the tray and knife on the table next to where he was work. 

“Perfect. Just perfect, Ella. Thank you so much.” 

“You’re welcome. Your majesty,” Ella felt out of place but she had never been so curious. “I know this is out of place. But perhaps is there anything I can do? I know how rarely you have,” she coughed, “relations with my step sister.” 

“Not you, nor any woman alive can help me. I do appreciate it, however.” 

“I understand, sire. Will that be all?” 

“Yes, Ella. Have a good day.” 

“Thank you sire. Good day.” She curtsied and left the room, immediately shutting the door behind her and leaning against the frame. 

“Cindy! What are you loitering about my room for?” the new queen approached her, more frustrated than usual. With the oncoming baby, it was getting heavier and she had been walking more slowly - a fact that had pleased Ella highly. 

“Apologies, your majesty.” Ella straightened herself up and opened the door for Anastasia. 


	4. Conspiring

With the onset of winter and Anastasia’s increasingly larger stomach, more blankets layers draped around the rooms, warming both her and her unborn child. The castle was surrounded in servants, kitchens were busier than ever, and all personal servants’ duties were suspended for the day to prepare for the Christmas day feast. Local kingdoms’ dignitaries were invited and even servants were permitted at the table. Ella helped her sister into the dress prepared specially for her due to her pregnancy. “Ow!” 

“I didn’t do anything!” Ella burst out with excuses. Her step sister coupled over in writhing pain. “Oh lord. I’ll get the doctor,” Ella ran out the room, realizing that Anastasia was about to give birth. _So much for getting to go to the feast,_ she thought. Running to the opposite wing of the castle, she found the castle doctor, cleaning up her workstation before leaving for the feast as she had a number of patients. “She’s about to give birth,” Ella said without warning, exasperated. 

“Oh my. Get a warm bucket of water, cloths, and light a fire in her room. I’ll be right after you.” Ella nodded her head and raced off to the kitchens to get warm water, flint, and fresh fire wood. She quickly lit a fire and set down the clothes and warm bowl of water on the nightstand. The doctor came rushing through the doorframe along with another servant and a pile of blankets. “Ella, if you could watch the door. Morgan, apply warm cloths to her forehead and we’ll get this started.” Ella gladly immediately left the room, taking post guard outside of the room to ensure no one approached as this was an incredibly private affair. 

With the closure of the feast in the very late hours of the night, Prince Henry appeared, drunken but happy, his walk staggered. “Sire, your wife is currently giving birth and we were unable to move her in time. Might I suggest you take one of the empty bedrooms in this wing?” 

“Finu’lly. Thank god. Yeah, yeah. I’ll - uh - do that.” 

“Will you need any assistance, sire?” He scrunched up his face, realizing his state of intoxication. 

“Jus’ get me to th’ door.” 

“Absolutely, sire. Have you a preference of room?” He shook his head. “Follow me, please.” Even in his intoxicated state, he respected how cordial she was being, still very much in recognition of his crown. Finding a spare empty room, she opened the door, letting the prince in, where he fell back on the bed.  

“Thank yuh. Ell, ell, uh uh ella. ELLA!” he repeated. “Why’re ooo so nice to me?” 

“You are the prince. I am a servant, but I recognize the fact that you are a good person. And you clearly only married for heirs. And I must say, that can’t be easy. Fortunately, I don’t have such problems, being the last of my name and no parents to ask me of that.” 

He gestured for her to come closer. “Wanna know a secret?” 

“I think I actually already know. You once said no woman can fix your problem. I understand, actually.” 

He smiled, eyes popping wide, mouth agape. “YOU’RE GAY TOO? NO WAY!” 

Ella smiled politely, but urged him to keep quiet. “Your majesty, do keep it down. You do know you’re not supposed to spread that around about yourself.” 

“Listen. Listen. I know that I’m supposed to rule the kingdom, but I don’t really wanna. What if your sister did?” 

“She is not the brightest in the bunch. Is there anyone you could appoint in your stead while your potential son grows up?” 

“Well there’s my cousin. His brother’s king of a nearby kingdom and I’m sure he knows plenty.” 

A spark glistened in Ella’s eye. “I have a proposition for you. If you have a son, appoint your cousin in your stead once your father passes. We run away.” 

“YOU BRILL’UNT GIRL! Yesyesyesyes. That. That. I wanna do that.” 

“Okay, sire. For now, get some sleep. I’ll let you know when you have a child.”

X

After a few hours of sleep, Ella went into the royal chambers to check on her sister and knocked on the door. “Cindy!” she introduced herself. 

“Come in,” said the quiet voice of the doctor. “May I introduce you to Henry and Peter? A perfectly healthy birth.” she introduced the two newborns in Anastasia’s arms to Ella. _Excellent,_ she said to herself. 

“Wonderful. I’m so glad that worked out. When can his majesty meet them?” 

“As soon as we get this room cleaned up.” Ella nodded and took about the room, taking dirty blankets, sheets, and cloths and the now empty bowl out of the room. 

“I’ll be back with fresh ones in a few minutes.” Careful not to break the glass bowl, Ella stepped out the door and down the staircases gingerly, finally finding her way to the laundry room, exchanging the old sheets and blankets and fetching the prince’s breakfast. After changing them and sprucing the room up a bit, she was permitted to go get Prince Henry. 

Going into his room, she set down the breakfast on his table with a clang. “WUZIT?” he woke with a lurch. “Dear god, unholy morning.” He groaned, the clear hangover kicking in. 

“Good morning, your majesty. Your breakfast is on the table. You have two sons ready for you in your bedroom whenever you are ready.” 

“Good. What did I do last night?” he asked, brown hair askew and his face thoroughly confused. 

“You got incredibly drunk and told me your,” she cleared her throat, “secret. And you agreed to leave the kingdom with me if you had sons.” 

“Oh yeah.” He waited a beat. “You know, that still sounds a great idea, even sober. Tell ‘em I’ll be in after breakfast.” 

“Thank you, your majesty. Have a good breakfast.” 

“Thank you, Ella.” She left the room as the prince stumbled out of the bed and attacked the ham, eggs, and toast on his platter for breakfast, finished within minutes. Ella had laid out his clothes for the next day the night before as he saw next to the plate and changed into them. Still hungover but thoroughly awake, he stumbled around the room trying to find parchment, quill, and ink. 

He scribbled a quick note, explaining that he was refusing his position as prince and king once his father passed away, but that his cousin would be happy to and that he was never to be contacted again. He rolled it up and stashed it in a pocket, changed into boots, and left to see his newborns. 

X 

Ella dashed around the room as the couple took breakfast in the royal dining room, packing up every single article of the prince’s that he owned, making sure to double check the room he had stayed in the night before. There was not an excessive amount, all of their belongings fit neatly into two sacks, and Ella stashed a fair amount of fresh food from the kitchens to sustain them for a few days. Ella dashed to the stables, grabbing his favorite horse and one that would not be much missed for herself, mounted, and waited for the prince. “Ella?” she heard a whisper. 

“Over here. Come on. We need to get out of here before sunrise.” He found his horse mounted, clucked to her, and they were off. 


	5. Overnight

Days later, they finally reached an inn on the outskirts of the kingdom, near the old chateau that Ella had once called home. “Here’s as best as any for the night. We’re on the very outer rim of the kingdom. Once off your family’s property, I have no jurisdiction.” Henry dismounted. 

“We have a small stable if you just keep going to your right.” He followed her instructions and found the empty stable, long unoccupied since Ella’s father’s horse had passed away. She followed behind and slid off the animal’s back. “If you go inside, make yourself comfortable. I’ll deal with the horses.” Searching through the musty old stable, she found an old half empty bag of oats, which she led the horses to, letting them each their fill while she took the saddles and blankets off the horses backs. They had decided to take a lengthier, more roundabout way to the edge of the kingdom, resulting in an entire extra day’s ride. Ella hung up the oats when the two horses had finished, grabbed the bags, and went inside the moderate sized chateau. “Sire?” she called, voice echoing in the abandoned home. 

“In here,” he called from her father’s old study. He stood, staring at a wall to ceiling portrait of her and her father when she had been a toddler. 

“Oh lord. Not that one.” She blushed and busied herself with dusting the old books. 

“Why not? You were such a cute little tyke!” 

“That was done shortly before my father passed. It still reminds me of all that he could have done but never got to.” She sniffed, trying to hold back tears. 

“Hey, hey.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t have a whole lot of time with him, but he really loved you. Just look at the way he’s looking at you here, even in a portrait, where he’s had to stand for hours. He still looks just as doting as I imagined he did in life. Not to be intrusive, but how did he die?” 

“I never had any dirt on her, but I’m almost positive Tremaine killed him. My step mother. He had quite a fortune, which she successfully achieved by rubbing me out of my inheritance somehow.” 

“Wow. I thought she was horrid, but I couldn’t even fathom how terrible she was.” 

“I was the family servant since I was five. You didn’t wonder why she kept me around once we moved to the castle?”

“To be honest,” he sounded embarrassed. “I thought you were just the family servant. I never even thought about the fact that there was any way that you were actually related. I’m dreadfully sorry about that.” 

“Yeah. I just tried to keep my head up so she wouldn’t have the pleasure of thinking she hurt me. Anyway. I am exhausted. You can have Anastasia’s room, I’ll take Drizella’s.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather your old room?” he cocked a head to the side, confused. 

“I slept in the attic,” Ella stated, bluntly. “Yours’ll be first on the left upstairs.” She tossed a bag towards him. “Here’s your stuff if you need anything.” 

“Thank you. And seriously, once again, I owe you one.” 

“Don’t promise me anything yet. Once we get some time to breath, then you can do as such.” He laughed and headed up the stairs, shouldering the bag.                   


	6. Christine

Slashing her way through the dense forests of Northern France, Ella led Henry and the horses carefully, taking Henry’s intricately jeweled sword that he insisted on bringing along to chop the icy branches down. “Dear god, this dress is obnoxious.” She was still wearing one of the mid length dresses for the castle servants. It was fine for getting about the castle in, but little else besides. Ella had no idea how she had even made it on horseback this far. Carefully, she slashed the dress to just below the knee and made a long slit in the left side so she could easily navigate. Likely not the most expected usage of his two thousand livre masterpiece, but it made the trek much easier. “Are we almost through this all yet?” 

“Hold up.” Ella heard a groan through the wood. “Quietly,” she whispered, stepping as quietly as the dead, snow covered leaves would allow her. On the ground, was a large lump who seemed to still be breathing. “Hello?” The lump stared at her, a young child of barely ten, freezing. Ella knelt down and snapped her fingers at Henry. “A blanket. Now.” He went off grumbling through the packs to find a blanket for the child, not used to being treated this way, especially by someone who for the last year had treated him with the respect level appropriate for the crown prince. “What happened? Why are you in the middle of this forest?” 

“I was hunting yesterday. I haven’t a lot of money,” she quickly explained. “I took some wrong turns and got lost. So I had to spend the night in the forest. I had hoped things would look familiar once I had a night’s sleep.” 

“Come here, love.” Henry wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. “Do you know the way back home once you get out of the wood?” She nodded. 

“Best you come with us, then. Stay back. The branches have a mind of their own.” The girl nodded, already knowing the obvious of what Ella had told her, taking her place a ways behind Ella while they resumed their path. 

“I’m Christine. What’s yours?” 

“Ella,” she said, distantly, slicing and dicing the iced branches in their way. While she was more than happy to help the girl, once she was focused on a task, she wasn’t always the most cheery to be around. “Glad to meet you. And the oaf back there is Hen-Charles.” She realized that despite the fact that he was in disguise, complete with a new haircut the night before, it was best that he adopt a completely new identity, as well as a name. 

Christine realized that Ella wasn’t one for talk on the road so she hung back to talk to Henry. 

“Is something bothering her?” she motioned to Ella. “Or is it just me?” 

“Not just you. She has seemed a bit more off putting lately. It might just be this forest, though.” 

Minutes later, Ella held a hand up, signaling for a stop. “We’re nearly out, be careful and watch your step. It’s brambly up here.” 

With some careful ducking of heads, they were out. Christine’s heart seemed to lift, seeing a familiar sight. “Is that your town?” 

She nodded. “That’s Sarrigné. Thank you so much for your help.” 

“Could you lead us to your home? I want to make sure your parents aren’t worried.” Henry took an interest in the child. 

“I’m an orphan.” She stared up at the crown prince, hoping he wouldn’t treat her differently. 

“Have you any family at all?” Ella interrogated her. Christine shook her head, no. Ella exchanged looks with Henry, realizing just what kind of town they were about to enter. “I, I guess you can go on your way if you wish then. Good luck.” 

“Thank you. I do really appreciate all you did for me.” 


	7. Sarrigné

 

Meeting Christine had been a moment of realization for the pair. Ella hadn’t had the best upbringing, but she had lived like a queen compared, due to still living under her step mother. Christine was not the only case. The town barely got from meal to meal as it was, so most resorted to thievery and questionable hired jobs for compensation or food. Christine took the streets for the day and tended to take refuge in anyone’s shed for the night. The town was used to this kind of activity, so there was usually at least a blanket and a few table scraps in most homes. 

Having taken all of his immediate money, they were able to get space at the inn, although they were overcharged. Every other night, Henry took the bed, while Ella took the hard wood floor. Ella had taken to being the unnamed body guard of Henry, which excused her constant activity of wearing his ceremonial sword - Ella was incredibly suspicious of the town. She would later downgrade to a simple long dagger for easier mobility. Any money they carried was thoroughly concealed as they had quickly learned on their first outing to the market, when they had been set back quite a bit from a common thief. 

Having lived in the castle, which was covered in fine dining, Ella had stolen a fair bit of game when she got tired of the same basic stews and stale bread. In Sarrigné, she woke early, sneaking to the markets before the bulk of thieves got to the scraps of the early shoppers, gaining their food for the day. 

X 

“Ell, any chance of a chicken today?” Henry had been requesting more food lately, despite the fact that he had for the most part gotten used to scraps of meals. Ella knew eventually they would need to gain some sort of employment. However, no one needed a cook or maid. 

“Tomorrow.” She promised. That night, she slipped into the tavern amidst a group of rare travelers and hid under a table, managing to get two bottles of wine once the foreigners were drunk enough to not notice. She left under cover of night, delivered the bottles to the prince to busy him, and slipped out in a warmer dress and cape, pocketing the room key in case Henry locked the door while she was out. 

In the far reaches of the town, was a second market. Instead of the usual apples and fowls, were odd jobs. A high paying salary to steal cattle from a nearby village weekly, deliveries of illegal products, and similar others. They whispered among each other, in case of onlookers. 

“Thief. 700.” 

“Wine smuggling. 1200.” 

“Kill. 3000.” Ella stopped in front of a lightly bearded ginger, looking him in the eye, making him aware she wanted the job. “Meet me at the tavern tomorrow afternoon at two pm. I’ll give you the details then.” She nodded and turned back the way she came. She knew that she would be decent at the job, oddly enough. Everyone had their limits to poverty, which was why the Night Market ruled the town. Returning to the room at the inn, she found it locked, turned the key in the lock, and found Henry passed out drunk on the chair in the corner. She lightly shook him awake. “Henry. _Henry,”_ she whispered. His eyes opened, confused. “You passed out on the table.” 

“Oh.” She shook her head, amused, and helped him get into the bed. 

“I got a job. It’s not legal, but we’ll be able to live comfortably again.” 

“Well, that’s good.” He turned over in the covers and immediately started snoring. 

“Oh, dear.” She gathered the bottles from his escapades, putting them in the corner for the trash bins the next day, changed into a night gown, and slipped under the blankets on the floor to sleep. 


	8. Psycho Killer, Qu’est-ce Que C’est?

While she had been incredibly wary about taking a hired kill job initially, it had led to a much more interesting life than she would have otherwise. After a thorough training, she had been paired with others in order to take out an entire squad. It was often travelers who tried to take over the town, knowing that they were vulnerable. 

Realizing how skilled she was at collaboration jobs, her employers realized that she was much better when working with others. Through this, she had met Sophie. She was nimble, quick, and jetted through her surroundings like a bird. After a number of months, their friendship developed into more and Ella moved into her home - small, but comfortable. Ella gave a portion of her wages to Sophie for rent. Henry had taken up a permanent room in the inn and had eventually been hired on. 

“Good morning, my love!” Ella walked into the dining room, stripping off her daggers, laying them on the table and sitting down across from Sophie.  

“I take it you had a good night?” Ella had been out working the last night. She nodded. 

“A few miscreants. Easy job. As per usual, slice ‘em and dice ‘em.” Sophie beamed, proud of Ella, pecking her on the lips. A knock came on the door. “Who’s that?” she asked, not expecting anyone. 

“Charles and Henri. I invited them over for breakfast. It’d been some time since you’ve seen them, I felt like you needed a treat.” 

“You darling, you.” Ella kissed her abruptly, stood, and opened the door. “Come in, come in!” Ella rushed the two indoors who promptly sat down to plates of breakfast that Sophie slid to them immediately. Life had become comfortable in Sarrigné. It wasn’t what they had expected, but life was simple. Ella and Sophie would go to work while Henri and Henry managed the inn. They tried to see each other regularly, but work had somehow begun to pile up for Ella. Her employers realized she had a natural talent and had asked her to take out some of the more difficult targets on her own. She wasn’t complaining for the extra money, but it did make her exceedingly exhausted once she returned home. But for now, she had a beautiful lover, a best friend in love, and amazing food on the table every night. 


	9. Order To Kill

Every Tuesday afternoon, Ella and Sophie met with their employer at the tavern, who explained their respective jobs for the week. 

“Prince Henry.” Ella repeated, incredulous. 

“I take it you’ve heard of him. Will you take it? He’s been on the run, but we’ve finally found out who he is. He was charading  as Charles D’Aubigne, bartender at the inn. But we’ve finally caught him. We’re worried that he’ll find out about the market, so better safe than sorry.” 

“Charles?!” Sophie couldn’t believe the news. “No. There’s no way he’s the prince. Absolutely none. Even if he was, he doesn’t care about the night market.” 

“Let me know by tomorrow. If not, the job will go to someone else. As I’ve said. We simply can’t risk it.” Their employer stood, paid his bill, and left the tavern. 

“Charles.” Sophie repeated, still trying to wrap her mind around her close friend being the crown prince. “Did you know about this? You seem rather calm about all of this.” 

Ella nodded. “I helped him escape,” she confessed. “I love you, but I didn’t want to risk another person knowing about him. This job’s made me realize that I shouldn’t trust people completely. I’m sorry.” She apologized. 

Sophie stared at her, hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I wouldn’t have done anything about it. You know that more than anyone.” 

“I couldn’t risk it. Jobs with so many secret spies and tricksters, what if you had turned out to be one?” Sophie couldn’t help but agree. 

“Okay. I hate to say it, but you’re right. But what are we going to do about Char- Henry? If we don’t do the job, someone else will.” 

“Not if we leave. I know the jobs are easy and it’s a good way to get cash, but maybe it’s time to leave. We could start over. And who’s better at hiding than us? You know that we’re at the very top of the list when there’s a job that needs to be discreet. This could work out.” 

Sophie nodded. “Tomorrow at sunset. We’ll take the job tomorrow, get paid up front. Meet at the house immediately after. I’ll bring the boys, you bring the horses. Deal?” 

“Deal.” 


	10. Run to the Sunset

The next day, Ella and Sophie marched up to the tavern, determined. Their employer stood by the door, waiting for an answer. “We’ll take it.” 

“Is that so? Funny that you say so. A little birdie told me that you’ve got some plans.” He knocked on the wooden walls of the tavern, signaling for another of his hires to pop out from the door, arms crossed. “So instead, I’ve asked for Philipe here to kill the prince and the both of you. Hope it’s been a nice ride, girls.” They should have expected this and been more careful, Sophie knew. But they were in such shock, she didn’t regret a single bit of how it had gone down. The two exchanged a series of glances. 

_You get Philipe. I’ve got this one._

_Got it._ Sophie responded by glaring down Philipe, and quickly took her short spear in hand. Twirling out her daggers swiftly, Ella dashed around the employer, expertly getting hits in. Both of the men were highly trained, but they didn’t have the practice of Ella and Sophie. They had a system and it never failed. Every thirty seconds, they swapped places, which kept their nimbleness up and made their opponents always watching and having to switch fighting methods. Ella was harsh and blunt, while Sophie danced about. With nightfall, knives and a spear had pierced the men dozens of times and were bleeding out on the dirt walkways. Shouldering the corpses, they dropped them off at a nearby farm for someone to deal with. At the very least, the pigs would appreciate it.

X 

Ella ran back to the house to prepare the horses and to load all of their belongings up into a cheap carriage that they had acquired months ago for long travels. Henri, Sophie, and Henry loaded in as quick as they were able. Ella jumped up front, snapped the reins, and the small carriage rolled off into the night with hopes of an easier life.


End file.
